Over Time, We Are Brothers: Rewrite
by Phoenix of the Air
Summary: A friendship built slowly and surely over a foundation, brick by brick, is the most strongest form of friendship that is capable to bear the ravages of time and tests. A story of how the friendship of Eomer and Legolas came to be. Please read and review. :)
1. Prologue

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Disclaimer: _**_Do not own LOTR. This applies to the future chapters as well._

**_Warning:_**_ There may be fight scenes in between but no romance and such._

**_This is purely friendship. Please respect this viewpoint._**

_Story is based on the book version of LOTR. Hence, character's personalities, looks and storylines are aligned to the book._

_**Enjoy!**  
_

**~S~**

**Prologue**

_To,_

_Legolas Greenleaf,_

_Prince of Eryn Lagelen._

_My friend,_

_I hope this finds you in good health. I congratulate you and your father the King on his recent victories over the fell creatures that had roamed freely in your lands. It would do your people well now that they no longer live at the very edge of a shadow._

_As for my days, they are often filled with the affairs of the kingdom, the details of which I will not speak for I may bore you by this letter. Dear Arwen has been a help to me, lending a hand where I could not, and advising me where I needed it, reminding me where I forgot. It seems there is much work to be done. Blessed with long life I may be by my forefathers, I often fear sometimes that it may not be enough._

_You can see that I am in a pensive mood. I cannot fully shake it off, I am afraid. Laughter and jokes are something of a past at the moment._

_You may be wondering at this official letter that I send to you. I regret that my news will probably pull you away from your beloved home when you have fought for so long in distant lands to come back to your father and your people. And yet what I am about to tell you has caused me much worry as of late._

_You know that Lady Éowyn of Rohan had recently wedded Lord Faramir, Prince of Ithilien, whom you had met and spoken to after the War as well as my wedding and his own. The couple is happy, I assure you, but Éomer is the real reason of my concern._

_From what rumors I hear around in my court, I can tell you that Rohan does not fare so well. They have lost much; their king and his son, their wealth, their families, lands and men who could have rebuilt the kingdom had they not been martyred. Some rumors are absurd, and yet some are frightening. People speak as if Éomer no longer cares for his kingdom and that it is collapsing upon itself as he withers away in grief._

_I do not know if it is true or not. Éomer refuses to answer my letters and all of my messengers are sent back with no reply and no answer. My concern grows for him, though I cannot believe he is the kind of man who would simply throw away everything he fought for, but then grief does strange things to people._

_As for Lady Éowyn, she spoke to me of the same problem. Her brother refuses to write to her letters or speak to her messengers either. She is growing worried, and she had traveled to Rohan a few weeks ago, I believe. As of yet, I do not know how she is and what has become of Éomer._

_I know this is none of your concern. After all, you are of the Firstborn and the lives of men are only the falling of leaves in your eyes. But it lightens my heart that I have written to you about this. As for writing the letter in Sindarin… well, I did not want this sort of a letter to fall into another's hands. If my fears are true, then Rohan may be more vulnerable than she seems._

_Arwen sends her regards. After all, you had seen her as a newborn and watched her occasionally in all her years. She does insist that you come visit her soon as you could._

_Now smile, my friend! Such a dreary letter may weigh heavily on your mind, but keep your playful nature. It is what becomes you._

_From,_

_Aragorn son of Arathorn II,_

_King of Gondor,_

oOo

To,

Legolas, son of Thranduil,

Prince of Eryn Lasgelen,

My lord,

I hope my letter does not disturb you or causes you to come away from wherever you are needed by your people, but I beg a moment from your time and also your complete attention.

First, I must thank you for coming to my country's aid. The fact that you, King Elessar and Lord Gímli came with the White Wizard to cleanse the Golden Hall of the Worm and had brought my uncle to normalcy is feat indeed. Moreover, my brother was freed from the dungeons and pardoned due to this event. I must also thank you for your loyalty in all the three main battles of the War of the Ring.

I regret to say that, even though Sauron has been vanquished and his armies scattered and confused, his shadow has not fully receded. Evil, it seems, has taken another form in hopelessness and grief. My brother refuses utterly to take my help and keeps to himself these days. I do not know what the condition of my childhood home is but I know it very dire. I had turned to my husband but he is tied to King Elessar's command. When I turned to him, he told me that he could not help anyone who would not accept it, even though he wanted to give it so very badly. In my desperation, I now turn towards you by his recommendation.

You may be wondering why I turn to you to confide my fears. You have known my brother briefly but you knew him still. Life-threatening battles have often brought strangers together and woven comradeship between them, the type that even their closest friends and relatives cannot understand. Thus, it is the reason of this letter.

I also hear from many that there is more to you than meets the eye. Trusting in their judgment, I ask you to consider coming here if only a while. After all, you had been comrades with Éomer in all the main battles. Perhaps, he will be able to listen to a voice of reason for he declines to listen it from me, Éothain, Gamling, Erkenbrand and even Élfhelm! As a Firstborn and a notable head, perhaps you may be able to accept your words than mine.

If it does not go well, I assure you that you will be given full supplies of travel and your departure will be with respect and honor.

Queen Arwen has warned me that you may not be able to come, but I ask that you do still.

With my regards,

Lady Éowyn, daughter of Marshal Éomund,

Princess of Ithilien.

**~S~**

**_Author's Note:_  
**

_This is a rewrite of my story "Over Time, We Are Brothers". My personal advice is not to read the unedited version due to spelling mistakes, oocness, and such as I was still exploring my writing ability. This, however, is the final form of the story._

_Thanks to all my readers, reviewers and such for their continuous support and criticism. With a detailed plotline as well as many other elements in control, I hope I do not disappoint._

_Still, leave a review and tell me what you think. :)_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Set one year after the War of the Ring,_

_Eryn Lasgelen._

The forest was silent. A black squirrel scurried across the forest floor. It accidently stepped into a pile of leaves, sending them in all directions. The squirrel looked up warily before climbing up a tree.

The trees were still. Then, a bunch of leaves rustled on a branch on one tree. If one looked closer with keen eyes, a fabric of dark green matching the leaves' shade could be spotted. But they were rarely ever exposed. In the darkness, the thick, heavy bodies of the spiders crawling silently on the ground could only be seen by the most piercing eyes.

From his safe vantage point high up in the tree, he was well hidden as he assessed his enemies below. One hand held a bow at the ready, and the other crept slowly to his quiver. He had to choose a perfect moment, for his shot will be the signal of a volley.

One of the spiders crawled over a fallen branch, its legs making strange tapping noises on the wood. He forced back a shudder. His fingers grabbed hold of an arrow and he withdrew it. Placing it upon the bowstring, he slowly bent his bow and aimed for the leading spider. He let go.

No sooner did the leader gave out a loud scream, the other spiders realized that everything was going awry. Looking up, they spotted him in among the leaves where he no longer bothered to keep himself hidden.

But their moment of comprehension was short-lived. There was a song of many bows being released. Spiders screamed and screeched as the arrows embedded deep into their bodies. Some tried to wriggle away, only to be shot with more arrows until they dropped dead. Some were fortunate; they died instantly.

Once he was sure that all of them were dead, he slid off the branch and dropped down.

Legolas landed cleanly on his feet, his braided hair falling over his shoulder at the impact. He straightened, pulling back his hood and placing his bow across his back when he did. All around him, his comrades dropped down from their trees as well. One of them pulled off his hood, revealing thick, black locks falling freely over his shoulder.

"_That went well." _He commented jovially, an easy smile on his face. He walked over to Legolas._"I had thought I would have to save you back there, my old friend." _He thumped Legolas on the shoulder.

Legolas snorted. _"If there was anyone who needed saving, Dorián, it would have been you."_

"_Come now, you do not mean that. Fion! Am I not a responsible elf?" _Dorián asked, turning to the silent elf coming towards them.

Fion pulled back his hood, revealing black hair tied in strict braids. The elf had stern features, and a serious, focused look. He walked over purposely towards Legolas and gave him a solid cuff at the back of his neck. Legolas yelped in pain.

"_What did I do?" _Legolas demanded. The older elf gave him a withering look.

"_What did you do?" _Fion repeated. _"The leaves rustled when you moved up in the tree."_

"_And?"_

"_You could have been spotted, you idiot! Did I not tell you time and again that you need to focus more on your skills of secrecy? Something that you clearly lack!"_

"_The spiders did not notice, Fion." _Legolas said dismissively. He glanced at the other Rangers and noticed how they were suddenly interested in everything but them. Fion was famous for his temper and irate personality. Fion was not to be taken lightly; he was to be treated with awe and respect.

With an impudent grin, Legolas added, _"But I am surprised you noticed, Fion, given your old age."_

Fion's thick eyebrows snapped together in a frown and a growl rumbled deep from his throat.

"_Well, it seems that Fion is hungry!" _Dorián said hurriedly, passing a sweet smile to Fion when he turned to growl at the younger elf. _"Come along, everyone! To the Halls, we go for merrymaking and feasting!"_

Fion folded his arms irritably as he watched Legolas and Dorián walk in front of him. Then he heard a chuckle behind him. Fion whipped around.

"_Who is laughing?" _He demanded.

One of the Rangers quickly turned his laughter to a coughing fit.

"_Forgive me," _He said politely. _"I have something stuck in my throat."_

"_You do," _Legolas called over his shoulder. _"We call it laughter!"_

And at that, the Rangers laughed aloud.

oOo

Thranduil's Halls. This was the only sanctuary and safe haven for the elves of Eryn Lasgelen for centuries. It looked like a daunting fortress from the outside but the elves had beautified it from within.

Thranduil's Halls were built deep into the mountains of Eryn Lasgelen, forming a cave structure. It was sturdier than the dwarven buildings and much more beautiful than the goblin dwellings of the Misty Mountains.

There was a high wall surrounding the entrance to the Halls. The gates leading to these Halls were wide and high. Centuries of enchantments had been laid over these gates; none could enter or leave with the king's knowledge. The gates opened to a courtyard, where the soldiers, archers, Rangers and Warriors practiced their skills. Scouts and sentinels would march by, singing as they went.

At the end of the courtyard came another set of gates which led to Thranduil's Halls. Windows and balconies were carved out of stone straight into the side of the mountain. These admitted the free air of the forest, which the elves loved regardless of the evil that lurked within it.

But the evil was destroyed and driven away. Sauron was crippled forever; he will not return to power ever again. As for the Eryn Lasgelen elves, they had forced themselves against the very walls of Dol Guldur and gained victory when the Galadhrim came to aid them. The pits of Dol Guldur were laid bare, and they freed many of their kith and kin from the rubble. Many of them died later on, content to be in the arms of loved ones. Others fought on, deciding to live and enjoy what little life is left on Arda.

That summary did not do any of it justice, Legolas decided as he ran his fingers through his combed but damp hair. Of all the books that will narrate the story, few of it will explain the horror and pain of the war.

He walked out of his changing rooms, and through his study. He would have continued on if he had not glanced at his desk. Éowyn's letter from last month was still resting there, open. Legolas took it in his hands and read it slowly, unconsciously walking to the balcony as he did.

Éowyn had sent that letter a month ago. He had not been present in the Halls at the time, for he had left to pay his respects to the fallen from Dale, Lake-town and the Lonely Mountain. When he returned, one of the advisors handed the letter to him.

Truth be told, he was a little surprised to see Lady Éowyn contact him. He knew Éomer, but barely a little more than strangers, almost acquaintances.

To be more precise, Legolas knew only one 'side' of Éomer; the warrior side. No man, elf or dwarf on the battlefield is the same person one is likely to meet on the daily basis on the streets. There was a large amount of difference. Hence he knew him from chats here and there.

Legolas slowly folded Éowyn's letter in his hands, fingers pressing slightly at the folded regions of the parchment. He vaguely heard the sounds of the elven soldiers chanting at the courtyard. Some of the Warriors were practicing their swordplay. Some of the cavalry were playing with their spears. The War was over, but the elves of Eryn Lasgelen had seen too much darkness. They will still very wary.

Legolas shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts of the songs below him and instead focused on the letter in his hands.

His first meeting with Éomer had not been the best. The two had almost brought their weapons into the argument, the result of which would have been deadly and irreversible. Fortunately, Aragorn had stepped in just in time to stop them from going too far. After that, they had never truly spoken of the meeting. They had only met again after King Theodred was freed from Wormtongue's leechcraft. The events then spun out of control. They found themselves making a final stand at the Battle of Helm's Deep. Then Saruman's banishment to Orthanc, their travel to the cursed mountain, the Battle of Pelennor Fields, and the Battle of Black Gate came one after another until they suddenly found themselves at Aragorn's coronation.

And what were two royals supposed to say to one another when they only knew each other from the battlefield? Their conversations were mostly exchanges of pleasantries, though sometimes they had admittedly indulged in witty remarks and occasional laughter from time to time. But such meetings were always in the presence of others. To aid Éomer meant he was to work alone, without Aragorn, or Faramir or anyone else acting as a buffer in between. The task was much more difficult that way.

He jerked out of his thoughts in alarm when he felt a heavy weight suddenly on his back. Two arms snaked around his neck from behind, nearly throttling.

"_Did you miss me?" _His assailant asked.

"_Dorián! Let me go!" _Legolas managed to choke out, but his childhood friend's arms tightened playfully around his neck. He felt his legs give underneath him, but Dorián dragged him away from the balcony just in time to keep him from falling over the fence.

"_Come now." _He heard his friend say in amusement, still clutching him from behind. _"It has been a long time since you and I wrestled."_

"_Dorián-"_

"_I dare you."_

"_Your challenge is duly accepted."_

Legolas forced all of his weight to his heels of his feet, using Dorián's own weight against him. The two friends fell back with a loud thump and a grunt.

"_My word, Legolas! You are heavy!"_

"_Me? What about you?"_

Legolas tried to get up, only to have Dorián pulled him back with his arms still locked around his neck. Legolas elbowed him hard into his ribs. Dorián immediately released him with a loud yelp.

Legolas quickly got up before the other elf could grab him again.

"_One and a half Age," _Legolas commented, straightening his tunic that had gone askew in the tussle. _"That is how old we both are. I think it is time we started to act like our age."_

Legolas leaned forward, offering his hand. Dorián took it and was pulled to his feet.

The two friends stood right in front of one another, each assessing the other seriously. After a moment of serious contemplation, the two burst out laughing.

"_Legolas," _Dorián said, still laughing. _"I doubt we can be as melancholy as our fathers."_

"_I agree. It is good to see you again my friend." _Legolas said, pulling the elf into an embrace. Dorián returned it.

"_It is indeed."_

"_Where had you been?"_

"_Oh, nothing much." _Dorián said vaguely. Legolas narrowed his eyes at him.

"_You were getting into trouble."_

"_I was not getting into trouble!"_

"_Dorián, you always get into trouble!"_

"_I do not!"_

"_Aye, you do!"_

"_Tell me of one time I did get into trouble."_

Legolas became silent.

"_See," _Dorián said triumphantly. _"You cannot think of anything."_

"_Oh, I can think of many things but I do not know which one to mention first."_

To someone unused to their playful insults, Dorián should seem offended but the elf only laughed.

"_What about you?" _Dorián accused, grabbing his friend by his shoulder. _"You have been quiet and distant recently. Is something on your mind?"_

Legolas stifled a grimace. Dorián's eyes did not miss much. He suddenly realized that his hands were empty. Éowyn's letter fell when he had played with his friend. Turning around, he spotted the poor, mangled letter and bent to pick it up.

"_Stop avoiding my question, Legolas." _Dorián said, following the elf to his desk.

"_I am not avoiding it, Dorián." _Legolas answered, flicking the letter to his desk. Ironically, it landed just on top of Aragorn's letter concerning Éomer. Legolas narrowed his eyes at it. It seemed silly but it felt as if the two letters were chiding him on his hesitation. Dorián's voice lifted in an unveiled amusement.

"_Don't be so hard on that piece of parchment; I am sure it did not mean to be rude. It doesn't like your desk either."_

Finally, Legolas turned to give his friend a long-suffering glance. Dorián merely gave an impertinent smile.

"_What is on that parchment anyway?" _Dorián asked. _"Every time we enter your rooms, you frown at it as if it had given you offence."_

"_It is a letter from Estel."_

Dorián's smile disappeared.

"_Is all well in the Mannish Realms? Is Evenstar well? If our lady wishes to return to our lands, then-"_

"_She is fine, Dorián." _Legolas interrupted, deciding to forego answering his question about the Mannish Realms. _"Estel 'invited' me to come help Rohan. I do not know what to make of it yet."_

Dorián frowned.

"_I think it is a simple matter of aye or nay, Legolas." _He said at last.

"_It is not that simple. There needs to be a lot of thought put into it." _Legolas told him.

Dorián grinned.

"_Since when do you, who is famous for his impulsive behavior, 'think' before you act?"_

"_Since one of us had to grow up," _Legolas snapped. _"And you were showing no signs of doing so, therefore I decided to be that one."_

"_In other words, you are growing old." _Dorián concluded, eyebrows rising in a challenge.

"_Or perhaps you are being too childish." _Legolas replied.

"_Ah, perspective?" _Dorián said thoughtfully. _"It is a wonderful thing, is it not?"_

Legolas opened his mouth to argue but Dorián would have none of it.

"_Come on," _Dorián said, turning and calling over his shoulder. _"Your father awaits and he has already claimed that he will not wait till the end of Arda just for you." _Legolas forgot their banter and looked confusion.

"_What does he want from me?" _He asked.

"_The details of your travels. He wants you to narrate your tales."_

"_You mean he 'demands' that I narrate my tales." _Legolas corrected.

"_That is a matter of perspective, my friend, a matter of perspective."_

oOo

He felt something probe his mind. Legolas' brow furrowed as he felt the presence press gently against his mental defenses, trying to slip past without him noticing. Legolas gave a private grin.

With all his mental strength and strong will, he hammered down on the presence before promptly pushing it out of his mind. Once he was done, he turned towards his father, lips frantically twitching upwards in a smile. Thranduil had found a sudden interest in an already signed report on his desk, marking him as the culprit.

_"You have an uncanny ability to find what you desire, father."_ Legolas commented wryly, his eyes twinkling in merriment.

Thranduil glanced up and smirked. The Elven King leaned back in his chair and placed both of his booted feet on the table, crossing them at the ankles. Placing one hand over the other, he smiled up to his son.

_"The ability has benefits, boy. You should try to use them."_ Thranduil replied evenly.

Legolas snorted and walked over to his father's desk. Leaning against the edge, the elf folded his arms and gave his father a merry look.

The two elves stared at one another, waiting and wondering which one would break to laughter first. They shared a shocking amount of resemblance. Both of them were tall, fair-haired, with high cheekbones and a powerful aura. But certain differences kept them apart. Thranduil was slightly taller than his son, with broad shoulders and more muscle. His eyes were gray in color, humor mixed with the sadness that his eyes had seen in the Ages he had lived through. Legolas, on the other hand, was slim and lean, with light blue eyes that were bright and merry.

"_I am aware of the 'benefits', father but I have moralities! I do not, for one, seep into other peoples' minds to see what they are hiding!" _Legolas retorted.

"_But I must!" _Thranduil said innocently. _"I worry about you!"_

Laughter circulated through the watching audience. With the war over, the elves had much free time. Such banter between their beloved royals was very much welcome.

_"I thank you for your fatherly concern."_ Legolas snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Their audience finally applauded, and father and son shared a grin. They enjoyed their verbal duels as much as the other elves enjoyed watching them.

Thranduil glanced at his son, a fond smile coming over his face.

The War of the Ring was finally over. Finally. It was hard to believe that they were now free of Sauron's shadow. They had lived so long at the edge of darkness that the thought of the light was somewhat hard to believe. But the gates of the Elven Kingdom of Mirkwood were finally open, its location no longer a well-kept secret. Very few orcs roamed their lands, most of whom had fled to the mountains and the ravines. And all they had experienced had come to an end after Sauron was defeated. But with no news of their prince, the elves of Eryn Lasgelen waited impatiently and anxiously, until at last they found him singing as he entered their forest on a glorious Rohirric bred horse.

_"I thought you were lost to us. The darkness was just so strong…"_ Thranduil had murmured as pulled his son into an embrace, weapons and all.

_"The darkness has passed. You need not have worried."_ Legolas had murmured in reply, nuzzling his head deeper into his father's cloak, enjoying the warmth and the security. Back then, he could not help adding, "_Besides, you need someone to ruin your day, no?"_

Needless to say, Thranduil had threatened to make the Crown Prince scrub the kitchens for his cheek.

Once everything had settled down, Thranduil had delighted himself in pestering his son into telling him of his adventures (or misadventures, as the King privately called them). Sensing his father's intent, Legolas replied in short, vague explanation that virtually told Thranduil of nothing. The evasive tactics went on for two hours until finally, annoyed and perplexed, Thranduil resolved into mentally probing his son's minds for the answers he sought. But Legolas was personally trained by his father, and in no time he had promptly escorted and unceremoniously thrown his father out of his mind. And so the banter continued up to this point.

_"As I had said; you have an uncanny ability of finding what you desire."_ Legolas said. There was a hint of a challenge in the younger elf's voice, which Thranduil would gladly accept.

_"You dare challenge me, boy? Well, let the games begin!"_

Advisors and guards, having nothing better to do now that the War was over, looked on eagerly. Legolas cleared his mind for the onslaught, ignoring the cheers and shouts of encouragement.

They were just about to throw themselves into a mental duel when the doors of the throne room burst open and a battalion of Mirkwood Rangers marched in. Thranduil swung his legs off his desk and made his way to the middle of the room. The Rangers came to stand in front of him.

_"What brings the entire battalion of Rangers from East Mirkwood into my throne room?"_ Thranduil demanded. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched with approval as his son immediately become grave for the matters at hand.

_"Forgive us, Sire."_ The leader spoke up. _"A group of men entered the forest. We told them to return but they would not do so. We had asked them to put down their arms but they refused. A fight followed. No one was hurt," _the leader added hastily, feeling Legolas' death glare upon him. _"But there were few cuts and bruises. We have brought them here, just outside the city. They were asking for the Prince."_

_"If they were asking for me, then does it not mean they may be some form of an emissary?"_ Legolas asked his voice dangerously quiet. The leader winced and bowed.

_"Forgive me, my lord. We have lived for far too long in shadow and doubt that it is hard to trust any outsiders."_ But Legolas waved the comment away.

_"No matter, let us go and see what they wanted, shall we?" _Legolas turned and made for the doors, his hands clasped behind his back. For a moment, Thranduil admired his son's quick forgiveness and was about to comment so when he noticed a glint in his son's eyes_. Blast_, Thranduil thought fleetingly, _he is not going to-he is!_

_"And the next time such an incident occurs, my friend, try not to bring the entire force of Southern Mirkwood into the throne room. It gets too stifling and hot in here. Shall we?"_

The abashed leader ducked his head and followed the prince outside, the Rangers close behind. The doors of the throne room closed behind them and Thranduil came over his surprise and laughed fondly.

_"That is why my son is very dear to me!"_

oOo

"Here we are," the leader commented as they reached the prisoners in the outskirts of the city. Legolas took one look of them and inwardly groaned. The men were dark-haired and fair-complexioned, marking all of them as Gondorians. What made him more sheepish on the behalf of his soldiers was the insignia of the White Tree on their green cloaks, which represented the Ithilien Rangers.

Legolas asked warily in Westron, "Are you Faramir's men?"

One of them, who seemed to be the leader, answered, "Aye, are you Legolas Greenleaf?"

"Aye," the elf confirmed. The man suddenly smiled and held up his tied hands. "Would you be so kind in releasing us? I have a message to deliver which could not be done in this- ah, position."

Legolas nodded and gestured at one of the guards to free the men. The prince made a mental note to send a word of apology to Aragorn and Faramir for the manhandling of their men. Once they were free, the leader got up and rubbed his chaffed wrists. Legolas gestured the man to walk with him, and the Gondorian complied.

Some distance ahead, the elf stopped. "Is Gondor under attack?" Legolas asked, worriedly. The man shook his head.

"Nay," the man responded. "I have a letter to deliver." The man produced a letter from underneath his cloak. " 'Tis from King Elessar. He said that perhaps you may be able to make him see reason."

"Make who see reason?" Legolas asked, surprised. The man smiled grimly, "I asked him the same but he said that the letter would explain."

Puzzled, the elf took the letter. What could be so important? Legolas wondered. Turning the envelope over, he saw the royal seal. His worry increased. But the writing was undoubtedly Aragorn's, which meant it was not official in one sense.

Breaking the seal, the elf pulled out the paper and ran over the contents. It was written in Sindarin to keep a level of secrecy. He started to read in a much slower pace.

_My friend,_

_I speak here as one brother to another, without the use of titles and honorifics. I do not write to explain my fears, rather that of Lady Éowyn's. A month has passed by since she had written to you and still she waits for a reply. One and a half month has gone by since I last wrote to you and I too await your reply. _

_Please, your help is much needed and very welcome. Perhaps you will succeed where we cannot. _

_Éomer had recently refused to come to Minas Tirith to attend councils. I would go to give him counsel but as a king I am somewhat limited. Faramir I would have sent gladly but he is aiding me in things that I would prefer not speaking of on parchment and by ink. _

_I cannot think of any other who would come to my aid at this moment. Celeborn, as you know, wishes to be left alone in Lothlorien and my brothers Elrohir and Elladan are nowhere to be found. And so I turn to you._

_I will not beg, my friend, and I know you will not reduce me to such a state._

_From,_

_Your Brother,_

_Estel._

Legolas slowly folded the paper, his heart growing heavy. Something must have gone far wrong if Aragorn wrote in such a manner.

But he doubt if he could be of help because of their first meeting had left them in a stiff and awkward state. Legolas had not forgotten and Éomer had not forgiven. Despite their conflicts, the elf had admittedly felt saddened to see the young man, who had never dreamt of possessing the crown, become royalty upon the battlefield.

It was one of the most predictable ways of a kingdom to fall. Legolas has seen it happen. A king wallowing in his grief would not look after its own kingdom. The lands will consequently fall into conceited, tyrannical fools who would reduce the people into nothing. There would be havoc and disaster everywhere. And if at that moment, an outside force would attack… Legolas closed his eyes. The kingdom would fall before the king could even save it.

Rohan was already weak and weakening. It seems from the way Aragorn had written the letter. But there was something else. Éomer had never been the man to be easily defeated. He was fierce but to succumb to grief… but then again grief always worked in strange ways. Some wish for revenge, others simply waste away their life and still others…

And then there was something else. Legolas' brow furrowed. The letter was vague, but it was understandably so. Such a letter, if intercepted would have informed any intruder of a weakened kingdom and hence Rohan would have been in havoc with intruders and unfriendly eyes. Aragorn was wise to write in Sindarin, and he was wise to discuss the details of the kingdom vaguely. What was more; Lady Éowyn may not have told Aragorn everything about Rohan. Éomer and Aragorn may be friends, but the ground reality was that they were kings and it would not do to share all the weaknesses of one kingdom with the other, much stronger one. That is one wise woman, Legolas thought grimly, and a brave one, too. What Éomer's reaction would be to this finely woven plan was one Legolas would prefer watching from a distance.

Yet this was not going to be an easy task. Like most elves, Legolas had always hesitated in giving advice. It is the most powerful thing to give, and it can either bring other to ruin or to benefit. And friends always ask for advice the most. I hate being a friend, if anyone can take my meaning, Legolas thought miserably.

Decision made, Legolas looked around, trying to find someone to run his errands. He spotted a palace guard hovering nearby.

_"Go back to the palace and prepare food and supplies for my travel. I will be leaving shortly."_ Legolas said once he called the guard over.

_"If it pleases you, my lord, you will be telling your father for your departure, not I."_ The guard replied uneasily. He had no wish to be caught in between two powerful rocks like a helpless insect.

_"Do not worry. I will handle my father."_ Legolas said, laughing slightly. No one wanted to tell the King that his beloved son was leaving once again.

Turning back to the group of men who were now enjoying food and drinks, Legolas said to the leader, "I will be leaving tonight. There is something I must do. You may rest here till you are ready to travel." But the other man shook his head.

"Much as we are flattered by… elven hospitality," the elves who understood the gentle jibe, grinned sheepishly. "My men and I will travel with you, if it is all the same. We long to return to our woods."

Legolas nodded. "Very well, but my errands lie in Rohan. I will accompany you to the border of Gondor and from there, we will part ways."

"It shall be so."

"Be ready by nightfall, then." Legolas turned to go but halted when he suddenly remembered something.

"Forgive me, my friend, but I seem to be at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I do not know yours."

"Alfred, Sire. I am Lord Faramir's second-in-command." The man replied. Legolas winced inwardly. Yes, he should send an apology to Aragorn and Faramir.

"I will leave you to refresh yourselves."

_"And do not forget to bring them into the city."_ Legolas added to the elves nearby as he walked past them. The elves laughed merrily.

_"They are certainly not trees, Commander!"_ One of them cried, laughter in his voice. _"Ai! I doubt we would forget flesh and blood."_

_"Well, considering that you had forgotten to treat emissaries with hospitality, who was to know?" _Legolas demanded.

_"We did treat them with hospitality." _Another Ranger protested. The Ranger paused for effect before adding. _"Just not the right kind of 'hospitality'."_

Laughter rippled through the elves. Legolas shook his head and turned away. As he walked to the palace, he grinned with growing amusement as he wondered exactly what his father would say to his departure.

It would be a… refreshing experience.

oOo

"_Have you gone mad?" _Thranduil demanded when he saw his son was dressed and armed for travel.

Legolas looked up at his father's glowering form. In spite of all the wars and battles he had gone through for centuries, the sight still intimidated him. Talking to the Elven King into letting his son go into the Wild was as difficult as convincing a hobbit to give up his share of food. Legolas chuckled at the comparison.

_"Do not make light of this, boy!"_ Thranduil snarled_. "Scarcely have you been returned to us and now you are off to one of your wild adventures!"_

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the advisors glancing at each other worriedly. Legolas gave an inward sigh. He truly loved his people, but really, he could take care of himself.

_"Father, I must go. There are some things that I must look into."_ Legolas said. And some certain thick-headed king to knock some sense into, Legolas added silently.

_"You are forsaking you own kingdom for the sake of another!"_

_"I am not forsaking anyone, father. I must go; my friends are need of help."_

Thranduil sighed wearily and sank into his throne. _"You would go even if I do not give you the permission, would you not?"_ The King asked, not really expecting an answer. _"Go! But at least I can force some guards on you for an escort."_

_"But father-"_ Legolas protested in alarm. He hated travelling with an escort. There was never any freedom!

_"Do you want my permission or no? If not, I can throw you into the dungeons until you see clearer. Choose wisely!"_

_"I will do as you wish."_ Legolas said meekly.

_"Good."_

Thranduil had managed to call up a band of twelve Mirkwood Rangers to accompany Legolas, with Legolas himself being the thirteenth. Much to the younger elf's amusement, Thranduil purposely picked elves that were resilient against their prince's charms.

_"I am beginning to think you do not trust me, father."_ Legolas said laughingly when he saw the leader of the group was Fion. Fion had always been the most resilient to Legolas' charms, and was fully capable of keeping a firm rein on his mischiefs.

_"I don't."_ Thranduil replied frankly_. "But you had better be grateful. It could have been worse."_

_"It really could have been worse."_ Dorian, Legolas' best friend, warned. The prince smiled.

_"Aye, it could have been."_ Legolas said. Alfred walked over.

"My men and I are ready." The man said.

"So are we." Legolas confirmed. Turning around, Legolas raised his voice and shouted, _"Mount up! We ride!"_

The Mirkwood rangers mounted their steeds, and Legolas turned about to see tears in the King's eyes.

_"Oh, father."_ Legolas murmured, pulling his father into an embrace_. "I will return, do not worry."_

_"You do not know what it is like to hold your child after darkness until you have your own, Legolas."_ Thranduil murmured. _"And yet, here I stand, bidding my son farewell when he should be beside me."_

_"I will return and soon I will be causing your life a more miserable turn like always." _Legolas said, smiling as he pulled away. The Prince had the audacity to wink at his father. Thranduil was surprised into a laugh.

_"Come back when the seasons change, boy!" _Thranduil said.

Legolas mounted and nudged Arod around, leading him to the center of the courtyard. Behind him, the elves also made rough ranks. Noticing their pattern, the Ithilien Rangers did the same.

"_Form up! Ride out!" _Legolas called, pushing his horse to a canter out of the open gates. The elves carried his cry and followed, the men close behind.

At the center of the courtyard and in the gathering dust, Thranduil stood alone. Hearing the murmurs of his people, he smiled. His son was no longer young but he was youthful, loving the freedom and the thrill of the chase. He loved him dearly.

"_Come back when the seasons change, boy." _He repeated.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_A lot of my older readers were asking questions about this story, so let me answer their questions to make it easier for everyone._

**_Similarities:_**

_-This story is going to have all of the characters as mentioned in its former version._

_-This story is going to have all the plotlines and the sub-plotlines like the previous version._

_-Yes, this story will still have the quirky humor and the jokes like the previous one. :P_

_-Like before, I will keep answering reviews at the end of each chapter._

**_Differences:_**

_-The chapters are extended to 5k-6k without the author's notes from the usual 3k words._

_-There is more depth into the thought process._

_-Some things will go into more detail, especially Eomer and Legolas' friendship, to keep the storyline smoother than before._

_-Some people wanted a little more detail in the sub-plotlines because they seemed a little choppy, that will be amended._

_-A list of OCs will be added for easier reading. OCs list will differ for each chapter according to the OCs mentioned._

**_List of OCs:_**

_Fion: Elf. Ranger He is Thranduil's close friend and Legolas' former mentor._

_Dorian: Elf. Ranger He is Legolas' close friend._

_Alfred: Gondorian Man. Ranger. He is Faramir's second-in-command._

**_Replies to reviews:_**

_brankel1: Thank you. :)_

_1monster2: Hey! Long time, no hear. Thanks. I was wondering if someone would even read it, lol. _

_aronoiiel: Your review was a nice change, to be honest. Only a few like the newer version, lol. I am thinking of keeping both, so that the readers take any which they prefer. :)_

_Me: Hey! I should thank you for bringing up your questions. I did not realize that I had surprised my readers until I read your review. A lot of other readers had the same questions, so I hope you don't mind me answering them all together for others to read as well. And I appreciate your review a lot. :)_


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

They had left the forest when it was twilight and had ridden throughout the night, with galaxies of stars above them serving as their light. They must have presented a queer sight, Legolas thought with a grin as he rode harder. Thirteen elves and eleven men riding in earnest through the night, Legolas thought fleetingly, what a sight.

" 'Tis strange to ride in the night when it is usually used for sleeping." Alfred had called, bringing his horse beside the prince's.

"We love the night more, for it provides both beauty and light. I am sorry," Legolas had said belatedly. "I had not realized that you may not be used to our ways."

But the second-in-command would not hear of it. " 'Tis not a trouble for my men." Alfred had replied at once. "We will ride and we will ride swift." And the matter was at rest.

They had ridden through the night with only three brief stops to stretch their legs. It was a steady gallop, and the horses had strained for more, but none of the riders allowed them. Legolas saw no sense in running down the horses when there was no apparent urgency.

It was roughly an hour before dawn when Legolas called for a stop. The horses were tired, and the travellers soon set up in putting the horses more comfortable. The men were tired, Legolas knew, but the Ithilien Rangers were far too proud to admit it.

When the camp was set up, Legolas had arranged the Mirkwood Rangers to set up a watch. _"Do not let the men join you." _Legolas cautioned them. _"They are tired but they are proud to admit it. Make sure they rest, for we will need the strength for today's ride."_

As Legolas had predicted, the men had been a little insistent to take up the watch but the elves assured them it was no problem for them. They were more resilient by nature and could continue on for a longer period of time without the need of rest. And so the elves and men both settled their horses, letting them graze nearby and removing their burdens of saddles and saddlebags.

"I had heard that the elves ride horses without the riding gear." Alfred commented, offering his horse oats from his supplies. He stood near Legolas, who was checking Arod's legs for any soreness.

"We do," Legolas answered. "But not always. Sometimes it is best that we use saddles instead of riding bareback. This long ride needed us to use our horses' saddles."

"Ah, I see. Gondor had heard otherwise." Alfred explained.

"Many elves do not ride bareback, contrary to men's popular belief. Glorfindel, the lord from Imladris, for example, prefers using his saddle, reins and stirrups." Legolas replied.

When the horses were taken care of, they had lit a fire for warmth. These parts of Middle-Earth were known for their cooler temperature. Summer was never truly there; it was cool throughout the year and it snowed heavily in winter. The grass was darker and richer, and the animals were much stranger than those found in the Mannish Realms. There was a heavy dew on the grass and the soil was moist and cold. Sleeping on the ground, even with the sleeping rolls would not be a pleasant experience.

They ate lightly from the food in their supplies. The kitchens of Thranduil's Halls provided them with honey contained in tight ceramic jars. Dried fruits and nuts were also in separate jars. They had bread to go with the honey, but it was not the type that the Ithilien Rangers had ever eaten before. Gondorian bread was soft and moist, and slightly sweeter in taste. The bread made by the Eryn Lasgelen elves was long and cylindrical with a hard, dry crust but a soft inside. They were also a little salty in taste. They were packed in tightly woven cloth to protect them from the moisture and weather.

The men ate with a little wonder. No one knew much about the mysterious elves of Eryn Lasgelen, and so everything from their way of dressing to their foods was different and alien. But they soon became comfortable, enjoying their light meal. Legolas and his escort joined them, also taking a few bites here and there.

"I must admit," Alfred commented when Legolas came to sit down beside him. The second-in-command dipped his piece of bread into the honey. "You are not what I expected."

"Am I?" Legolas asked in genuine interest. "What did you expect?"

Alfred put his honey-soaked bread into his mouth and chewed slowly. His eyes flitted toward Legolas' face, studying him closely, as if trying to make out whether he can speak his thoughts freely and without causing offence.

"You must understand," Alfred said at last. "Our bards and minstrels are already making ballads and songs about the Fellowship of the Ring, the facts of which are somewhat misguiding."

"Now you have my curiosity piqued." Legolas accused him, laughing. Alfred smiled slowly, noticing that the elf was truly friendly and open.

"We have stories and songs spreading about the halfling who bore the ring of power, of our king who was garbed as a ranger and our beloved late captain with an unfortunate fate. Among those stories we heard of a wood-elf who was able to down an oliphaunt with a single arrow and had killed the fell beast that the Nazgul rode."

"Well those events are true but I seem to have missed your point." Legolas told him, taking a drink from one of the water skins passing around the camp fire before offering it to Alfred. The man accepted, took a sip and passed it on.

"Minstrels like to exaggerate, you see, and in turn fashion their heroes into bloodthirsty warriors with a harsh blow and a fearsome temper." Alfred elaborated. Legolas nodded in understanding.

"Well, I am hardly that." Legolas cleared himself. "Nor is anyone else that I knew in the Fellowship. But tell me, did we not meet before, in your King's wedding or perhaps in Faramir's wedding?"

Alfred shook his head. "I had been out of commission all that time, resting in my home in Lossarnach when I suffered many injuries on a mission. Captain Faramir's second in command had died in Osgiliath during the War and after the War; he took me in his place. I am afraid I am quite new to the position."

Legolas nodded in understanding and a quiet, friendly silence fell between them. He could hear his escort speaking quietly to the Ithilien Rangers as they mingled about them. Each side was slightly wary of the other, but conversations were quickly opening up between them.

"I have to ask," Alfred said after he swallowed a morsel. "I heard some of the elves mention your escort as Rangers, and I wanted to know; is your army divided into classes?"

"It is," Legolas replied. "We have two elite forces, the Warriors and the Rangers. Then come the regulars, which are soldiers, spear-holders or spearmen in your tongue, the cavalry and the archers. I and my escort are all Rangers. My father is a Warrior. More than that, I am afraid I cannot tell you."

Alfred nodded immediately in understanding. "Of course, it makes sense. We do not speak much of our ways to outsiders as well."

"What about them?" Alfred asked, pointing upwards at the two birds circling the camp above them. "I noticed that they had been flying with us from the moment we had left King Thranduil's Halls. They have stayed close since."

Legolas looked up, studying the birds in silence. the birds were fair in colour, in shade between grey and white, with wings tipped with silver feathers that shone a little whenever the light of the fire glinted off them.

"You do not need to tell me if it is a secret," Alfred said, studying the elf's upturned face. "I understand that each military class has secrets of his own."

Legolas smiled and looked at the man.

"Forgive me," Legolas apologized. "War, it seems, have left us wary even among friends."

"It is understandable," Alfred insisted. "We had been the same in Ithilien during the War. I should have been more considerate."

The man was polite, Legolas noted privately. And he respected that.

"Perhaps in time, we may be able to confer more easily." Legolas said aloud. They resumed to their meal, which they finished quickly.

There was a faint hint of light at the horizon that indicated the coming dawn when the Ithilien Rangers decided to retire.

"I still say that we should be helping you with the watch." Alfred told Legolas, coming to stand beside him as they both watched the men lay on the grass with their cloaks drawn over them upon their sleeping rolls.

"And I still say that we are fine as it is." Legolas argued, lips twitching in amusement. "I told you that it is no problem. You need your rest."

Alfred shook his head but relented.

Much to the elves' amusement, the men slept deeply as soon as they laid to rest.

Looking about the campsite, Legolas saw the elves sitting at the edges, talking in low tones in their native tongue. He spotted Dorián sitting alone and walked over to him, where he sat, watching the sunrise.

"_It will be a beautiful morning." _Dorián said softly, not looking up to see the prince. Legolas smiled and sat down beside him. Legolas smiled at sat beside him.

"_Yet another reason for our victory in the War."_

"_Does the War trouble you?" _Dorián asked.

"_Only the cost at which it was bought."_

This time Dorián turned to regard his friend. _"You speak of the Rohirric King and his people." _It was not a question. Legolas nodded. Before they had left the Elven City, he had already told Dorián everything about Aragorn's letter.

"_I do not understand. What should I do there? I have not the slightest hint of the goings in Rohan. How will I advise her King?"_

Dorián thought it over before replying slowly. _"Truth be told, I find Aragorn's words too vague. It may be that the situation in Rohan may be quite different. What I believe is that you should wait until we have reached the Golden Hall. A situation can only be remedied when it is observed completely. I hope that makes sense." _Dorián finished awkwardly.

"_No, it makes perfect sense." _Legolas said, nodding slowly. _"You have become wise, my friend."_

Dorián polished his fingernails on his tunic, _"Thank you. I believe I have."_

"_Perhaps, but I can still beat you in archery." _Legolas said, smiling.

Legolas crawled away, laughing when Dorián threw a hunting knife at him. _"Careful!" _Legolas said. _"Are you trying to kill your prince?"_

"_I admit it has become rather tempting." _Dorián replied, grinning as he retrieved his knife.

Legolas was about to tease when a wine skin dropped in front of him. Looking up, he gulped when he saw Fion towering over him.

"_If you are done making a nuisance of yourself, you might make yourself useful by helping me refill our water supply." _Fion said. _"And try not to blunder about creating havoc while you are at it." _Fion added, turning on his heel and expecting the prince to follow. Legolas sheepishly grabbed the water skin. Dorián gave him a sympathetic glance and Legolas hurried to follow his former mentor.

He followed the veteran to a nearby stream. Legolas knelt by the bank and dipped his hand in. The water was refreshingly cold. Legolas cupped his hand and brought the water to his lips, enjoying the taste.

"_Fill the skins first before you take a sip. Do not drink before the others." _Fion murmured softly, indicating the water skins. Legolas smiled before replying, _"Of course. I apologize."_

It was the same thing as it was when he was studying with Fion. Every day there was a new lesson and every day he had learnt something better. Legolas had enjoyed his apprenticeship, even if Fion was a little grim.

"_Why do you smile?"_ Fion asked. Legolas jerked back to the presence, where Fion regarded him curiously.

"_I was only remembering my apprenticeship, mentor. It was a good time."_

"_Really," _Fion asked dryly, the faintest of smiles ghosting over his lips. _"Well I certainly seem to recall enjoying myself when I made you clean the stables, and wash my dishes and sweep my floor and…"_

"_I get the point." _Legolas interrupted, grinning. Those chores were something the prince had been relieved of leaving.

"_And use you as my target practice whenever you made a mistake in stealth and concealment." _Fion finished.

Legolas grimaced. When he was an apprentice, he had been too eager, too impulsive. He never had the patience to wait in an area for hours on end. Fion, who was usually quite patient while teaching, had become frustrated in the end. He resorted to shooting arrows near Legolas whenever he became too hasty in leaving his hiding place.

"_The practice certainly worked," _Legolas admitted. He was surprised to hear Fion's low chuckle. _"It certainly did. What were you speaking to Dorián about?"_

The change in subject surprised Legolas. The prince frowned as he answered, _"Oh, he was advising me on what was the best course to take once we meet the King."_

"_And of course, Dorián is so old that he can give advice, now can he?" _Fion commented in criticism. _"Why, he is younger than you!" _Then Fion turned a sharp eye towards the elf. _"Make sure you do not create mischief in the horse lord's lands."_

"_Such little trust in your prince…" _Legolas drawled before he crept away with his share of the water skins, laughing as he did so.

Fion watched unblinkingly as his former apprentice made his way back to the camp. Legolas was the same as ever. The younger elf was impulsive, with a hint of mischief and a smile toying around his lips. Despite what many believed, Legolas was fiercely loyal and more than just a little experienced when it came to campaigning and war.

And yet, the veteran had noticed something else in his former apprentice. It seemed as if the prince looked more… haunted. As if he was waiting for a call.

_Sea-longing,_ Fion thought fleetingly before shaking his head. _"What troubles have you gotten yourself into, boy?" _Fion asked, no one in particular. Gathering the water skins in his hands, the veteran walked back to the camp.

The men woke up after six hours of refreshing sleep. Once they did awaken, they insisted on preparing the food and dismantling the campsite. With defeated smiles, the elves withdrew and let the men do it. The Mirkwood Rangers approved of course. Nothing was more terrible and tedious than travelling with companions who would not do their due share.

Once they had eaten and taken care of their camp, they remounted and set to travel again. This time, Legolas kept a more considerable pace, allowing the horses to reserve their energy for the last run of the journey.

It was a casual ride in the afternoon of the second day. Legolas leaned back on his horse, enjoying the steady change in the scenery. Dorián nudged him, gaining his attention. _"Look," _He murmured, indicating with his head behind him. _"Were it not for our uniforms, we may have been brethren of the same forest."_

Legolas turned to look. Behind him were the elves and men, mingling with one another and sharing amusing exchanges to pass the time. The Mirkwood Rangers wore clothes of darkest brown and a green so deep that it was almost black. It did not serve in camouflage in the Wild, where the green was much lighter, but in Mirkwood, the color was perfect. As was the standard Ranger Protocol, all the elves had bows and knives. The Ithilien Rangers, on the other hand, wore light green and brown colors of Ithilien. They had swords at their sides and longbows slung behind their backs.

All the elves in Legolas' escort knew Westron, which made up to more chatter among the riders. The Mirkwood and Ithilien Rangers exchanged tips and advice on field craft, archery, and stealth. In other occasions, they simply recounted tales of their respective homelands.

"_Aye, we are not so different." _Legolas replied.

Legolas smiled as he heard one of the elves narrate an amusing story of how one of their comrades (who was also in the travelling party) was trapped in a spider lair.

"You should have seen Callon hanging upside down, with his arms clamped to his sides as if he was tied in a blanket!" The elf declared.

"Mind you, I was not amused at the time." Callon added. Laughter circulated through the riders as they pictured the amusing scene.

Legolas smile faded a little as he looked over towards his former mentor. Fion was scanning the are around them with something close to a haunted look on his face.

"_What is wrong?" _Legolas asked, watching his mentor look over his shoulder once more.

"_Perhaps I am simply imagining it," _Fion said slowly. _"But something is wrong. I can sense it. Or perhaps, I am simply getting old."_

"_You, old?" _Legolas asked teasingly. Fion was about to retort but Legolas then said seriously,_ "But I would not take your words lightly. Let us be more cautious."_

They made camp sometime later, and keeping Fion's words in mind, Legolas placed four sentries on duty at any one time. The sentries shifted through the night, and Legolas had them to speak to him before retiring to rest. There had been no trouble in each watch.

The air was bitterly cold in the morning. The last holds of winter were still there. Legolas strung his bow and checked to see if his knives were in place. Dropping into a crouch, the elf made his way out of the camp. He had decided to scout the area, maybe for clues for anything following them. The Dark Lord may have been defeated, but his former subjects still lurked, sometimes mounting a surprise attack at any unsuspecting people.

What was more, the elf wanted to practice his skills. To his belief, Legolas thought he had not played a great role in the War, serving only as a representative for his people. Not many knew his skills, and those who did, did not know them well.

Legolas knelt, his hand pressed on the moist soil. He enjoyed the feel. It was fascinating, to see something as dead as the earth to bring life to something as colorful and refreshing as trees and plants. _And how we depend upon the soil,_ Legolas thought.

It was the growl that took his attention.

Making sure he did not move a muscle, the elf looked at his left without turning his head. A large beast stood in a crouch, his lips pulled apart in a snarl. A warg, Legolas realized. The warg had matted brown fur, specked with gray and white. Its teeth were yellowed and dirty, obviously from its previous meal. And its eyes had pure hatred. Legolas momentarily forgot his place and said, _"You smell terrible."_

The warg was not amused and lunged.

Legolas quickly rolled to his side, sensing that the warg had landed where had had been moments ago. _I seem to have inherited my mother's humor in strange places, _Legolas thought miserably. Still crouching, he pulled up his bow. Notching an arrow onto the bowstring, the elf pulled back and let go.

The arrow hit the warg into its shoulder but it only screamed its pain and rage and charged. Knowing that his bow would be useless at close quarters, Legolas let it go and pulled out his knife.

Pain. It shot through his thigh as the warg clawed into his leg. Legolas drew in a sharp breath. Taking the opportunity of the closeness, Legolas stabbed the warg repeatedly.

"_Legolas!" _It was Fion. The veteran stood at a distance, the other elves kneeling as they pulled back their bows. A volley of arrows embedded itself into the warg. It roared in pain, but none of them were fatal wounds, the tangled fur being a protection. It was Alfred who led the charge of men, a naked sword in hand. With a cry, the second-in-command beheaded the warg.

Legolas pulled back with a grateful sigh. He vaguely heard the elves coming near.

"_Fool!" _Fion roared, dropping down on one knee as he scolded the Prince. _"What, in the confounded ends of the world, were you thinking? I had told you before my suspicions. It was foolish to go blundering about and creating a racket for that warg!"_

"_I only meant to practice my tracking and hunting skills." _Legolas explained, shifting slightly as blood welled from his wound.

"_Well, then you should have spotted the warg!"_

"_I couldn't 'spot' something until I find it now, can I? And besides, I was armed!"_

"_Then you should have killed the warg in the first place!" _Came the tart reply.

Seeing his friend in pain, Dorián bent down and pressed the end of his cloak on the wound. Fion noticed the injury and shook his head. Pushing the elf roughly away, Fion snarled, _"And I will do that!"_

Dorián and Legolas exchanged glances and hid smiles. Fion, by nature, was a strict elf but much of his scolding was purely originated from fear over Legolas' welfare. So, the prince never took any of his former mentor's words to heart.

Alfred cleared his throat, making his presence known. The elves looked his away; they had forgotten he was still there. The second-in-command had schooled his face, possibly so that no one could see his amusement on how the prince was berated by another like teacher does to a naughty student.

"I see everything is in control here." He said smoothly. "I will take my leave."

"Wait," Fion interrupted. "Can you get your men to scout the surrounding area? Wargs travel in groups and it would be wise to check if there are any more nearby."

Alfred nodded his assent. Turning, the man shouted orders to the Ithilien Rangers who quickly, but silently melted away from the camp.

"_So they do know field craft." _One of the elves muttered as he handed a medical kit to Fion_._

"_Probably better than you." _Dorián quipped, bending down to hold Legolas still.

The elf who had spoken raised his hands in placatory manner and with a grin, left.

"_What I do not understand,"_ Legolas said, gritting his teeth and casting a glare at Fion. The veteran was purposely not being gentle in his ministrations, but Fion purposely did not meet the eyes of his former apprentice. _"Is why did it attack me? I was still close to the camp and that should have been enough reason for the warg to stay away."_

"_Perhaps Legolas is too handsome for his own good." _Dorián said laughingly.

"_I knew I should have told your father to marry you off when he had the chance." _Fion muttered under his breath.

"_True, but I doubt I would have consented." _Legolas replied, hissing when Fion tightened the bandage.

"_Aye, there is that."_

Fion finished tying the bandage. _"In any case, you had better hope this would heal before we enter Edoras. I do not think you will strike a formidable character in front of the King with an injured leg."_

A brief image flashed through Legolas' mind. He saw himself, limping up the steps of Meduseld to greet the King, announcing that he has come to help. Éomer would take one look of him and reply dryly that the rescuer would need rescuing.

The thought was so absurd that Legolas turned slightly to his side and pushed his face down as he exploded into helpless chuckles. Beside him, Fion looked annoyed. _"I tire of this," _the veteran declared, poking the elf at his side. _"Cease! Cease immediately!"_

The elves about them chuckled as well, Legolas' laughter being infectious. Just then, Alfred and his men returned. What the second-in-command thought of the scene, Fion did not dare to guess. His face schooled to be expressionless, Alfred said, "We scouted the area. There was no other wargs."

Fion frowned. "Strange," the elf murmured. "Fell beasts like the wargs always travel in groups. It makes hunting their prey much easier."

Legolas got up slowly. Dorián came forward to help but the Prince waved him away. "The defeat of the Dark Lord has made them crippled." Legolas said thoughtfully. "They will be scattered after the War, hunting for their own gains."

"And becoming ever weaker for attack," Alfred finished, understanding.

"Still," Fion said, slowly. "Let us leave immediately. I do not wish to stay around only to be food for a warg."

"Of course, we do not want to come to the end of our journey in pieces." Legolas said.

"Indeed, we do not." Fion said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. The veteran cast a meaningful glance at the Prince's bandaged leg. There was a ripple of laughter through the elves, but Alfred and his men managed to keep a straight face. Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have anything to say, Fion?" Legolas asked, his voice unnaturally civil.

"Just that we will do a better job than you in keeping ourselves in one piece," The veteran replied, his voice just as civil but unmistakably critical. Dorián snorted, and Alfred's lips twitched upwards, but the man kept a serious face still.

"Feeling cocky, are we not? Let us ride!" Legolas said.

The next few days went without any form of incident. Due to fast elven healing, Legolas' leg did not give him much problem and at the sixth day, the wound now only a dull ache. Fion had given scathing remarks over the wound, but Legolas only grinned, letting the veteran complain to his heart's content.

All elves had admitted that, the reason for the easy journey was the lack of conflict between the elves and men. Long journeys meant that tempers were short but Legolas was impressed that the rangers of both forests were able to work with an unspoken understanding.

By the end of the seventh day, they stood at the borders of Gondor and Rohan. The Mirkwood Rangers dismounted, followed by Ithilien Rangers for their farewell. In the week's travel, they had developed an odd friendship based on understanding and cooperation.

"It was a good travel," Legolas said quietly to Alfred once they had dismounted.

"It was an easy travel." Alfred corrected, smiling at the prince, who smiled in return.

"Aye, I agree." Legolas answered. He turned, seeing the elves exchange words of farewell.

"One thing," Legolas interrupted. The men looked his way in inquiry. "I apologize for our behavior when you had entered our forest. Please extend my apologies to your King and Steward."

Alfred let out a bark of laughter, and the men exchanged amused grins. "Do not worry about us." The second-in-command said, clapping the Elven Prince on his shoulder. "We are made of sterner stuff! And we have long forgotten the incident. Truly," Alfred added at the sight of disbelief on Legolas' face. "We are not offended. Had we been living in the same suspicion, we would have done the same. Ithilien had not been kind to strangers during the War." Legolas nodded, accepting the words. The matter was at rest.

"It was an enjoyable experience." Legolas heard one of the elves say. The men smiled. "Do not worry," An Ithilien Ranger replied. "Perhaps one day, our paths will cross again, and maybe someday we will show you our woods."

The elves smiled. "We will enjoy that."

Farewells were awkward business, Legolas thought as Alfred ordered the men to mount. Alfred wheeled his horse towards the border, and shouted, "We ride! To home and country!" The men answered with their own shouts. Raising his hand in farewell, which Legolas quickly copied, Alfred set his horse into a gallop, and his men following close behind.

Legolas turned about and mounted his horse, the elves following his example. They turned their horses and for a moment just stood there.

Rohan stretched out before them, a rugged land with green grass as far as the eye could see, and only the rocks and uneven terrain as ornaments. Its beauty lay in the rough texture of the land. The sun was setting, casting red glow over the land, enhancing its beauty.

Éomer, Legolas thought achingly. This country is far more important than those who had passed.

With a heavy heart that did not know what to expect, Legolas guided his escort to enter Rohan or the Riddermark as it should be known, ready to help her king.

**~S~**

**Author's Note:**

Good? Bad? Terrible? Let me know!

**List of OCs:**

Fion: Elf. Ranger. He was Legolas' former mentor and is Thranduil's close friend.

Dorian: Elf. Ranger. He is Legolas' childhood friend.

Alfred: Gondorian Man. Ithilien Ranger. He is Faramir's Second-in-command.

Callon: Elf. Ranger. He is roughly the same age as Fion.

**Replies to reviews:**

brankel1: Thanks. :)

tommyginger: Haha, thanks. Lady Brithwyn has become quite a favourite character for a lot of people! :D

aronoiiel: Heyy! Long time no hear! How are you? Thanks. I thought it looked much more nicer than older version. The older version was good but this was better! :D

Eldariel: Hi! I hope you got your answer about the older version, lol. It is still updating and I do intend to finish it so that you guys can go on to the sequel. I was delightedly surprised to see your review. It has been a long time since you last reviewed, so I was happy to see it. :)


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